Four Tells the Story
by RosesAreRed2000
Summary: You've read Tris's side of the story, now indulge yourself in Four's point of view as he develops his feelings about Tris, how he came to be and what life was like for him.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Two years ago, on this day, I fled from my father - my horrible, unloving, cruel father. His eyes burnt with fury as I cut my palm open, drops of scarlet blood splattering into the bowl of burning coal. Everyday I thought, out of a billion families to choose from, I got the one with the dead mother and the abusive father. Sometimes I would watch other children being hugged and cherished by their parents. Perhaps it was a mirror of what I wanted my life to be.

I stand in the dark, just a few inches away from the net. I hear silence from above the building. Where are all of the initiates? The thought goes away when I hear a whoosh of air, see a bouncing of the net and a delicate laughter. The giggle belongs to a blonde girl wearing grey clothes. Abnegation. After a moment, I stick out my slender hand, and she grabs it to stop falling over. Once she steadies herself and comes out into the light, I release her and see that her laugh matches her looks – she is a small, fragile little girl. She thanks me, and for a while no-one speaks. A voice breaks the silence.

"Can't believe it," says Lauren, the other instructor, "A Stiff, the first to jump? Unheard of."

"There's a reason why she left them, Lauren." I roll my eyes at the dark haired girl, all while still feeling the Stiff's eyes on me. I turn to her and ask, "What's your name?"

She looks at me, bright-eyed, and hesitates. The corners of my mouth lift. I say without expression, "Think about it. You don't get to pick again."

"Tris," She says with much more confidence and force. Lauren, who is grinning beside me, says," Tris. Make the announcement, Four."

I look over my shoulder, seeing a flash of Tris's pale blue eyes and long, thin nose, and shout, "First jumper – Tris!" The crowd of initiates cheer, the sound roaring in my ears, until another girl falls onto the net. Just like Tris, she laughs shakily, and again everyone cheers, but not before laughter emerges from them. I smile, remembering on this exact day how I fell onto the same net with glee. I lay my left hand onto Tris's bony shoulder, and say, "Welcome to Dauntless."

After all the initiates have fallen onto the net, Lauren and I take them to the tunnel and we separate – Lauren taking the Dauntless-borns, me taking the transfers. Only nine are left – most of them from Erudite and Candor, Tris from Abnegation, but the group is completely bare of Amitys. My cheek twitches as I see the transfers huddled together, accidentally bumping into the stone walls awkwardly.

I stop, and clear my throat before saying, "Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor." I pause, and then deciding it is only right that they know my name. "My name is Four." Except that's not my real name.

The girl, who jumped after Tris, perks up and asks, "Four? Like the number?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?"

"No."

"Good. We're about to go into the Pit," I announce to the rest of the initiates, "Which you will someday learn to love. It-" I am cut off by the same girl.

"The Pit? Clever name," She snickers to herself, but stops when I pull my face up close to hers, and glare at her. I ask her what her name is. Suddenly she retracts, and says quietly, "Christina."

I tell her, "Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would've joined their faction. The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep you mouth shut. Got that?" She nods. I may be a bit intimidating to others, but some people really deserve it. Like her. I make my way toward the end of the tunnel, nine pairs of feet shuffling behind me, when I hear Christina mumble, "What a jerk." I roll my eyes, and I am about to reply when Tris says, "I guess he doesn't like to be laughed at." It's the only statement today that's had some truth behind it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I decide its time to teach the initiates a lesson. When I lead the group to the exit of the Pit, the familiar sound of water crashing against boulders and rocks enters my earshot. I remember I had heard a story from one of my Abnegation schoolmates when I was younger, where a boy, only about eleven or so, threw himself ever the barrier of the chasm, because apparently he was in deep depression or sorrow. I shudder, thinking that if I was born in Dauntless, and I was tortured by Marcus so many times as I already have been, I would've committed suicide by the age of seven.

The sound of the footsteps combines and makes a vast choir of squeaking noises. I try to zone out, but eventually give up by the time I reach the metal barrier. I am not scared anymore of falling off the sudden change of depth in the floor – I can eliminate almost all fears. After all, I am Four.

"The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy!" I bellow, trying to talk over the loud sound of the river below. "A daredevil jump off this ledge will end your life. It has happened before and it will happen again. You've been warned," I continue, thinking of the boy who could've thrown himself off like that. I myself am not scared of death – it is not part of my fear simulation.

I hear murmurs spread like wildfire within the group, and spin around. The first thing I see is Tris nodding, strands of golden hair bobbing up and down with her head. I wonder what she is talking about. I shake my head abruptly and take them back to the dining hall. A boy dressed in Candor clothes pushes past me rudely. I don't give it another thought. Hearing lots of cutlery being clattered, the Dauntless people finally take notice of the initiates. They welcome them with a huge round of applause. The smiles on the people's faces are fake. You can see that glint in their eyes that says, "These kids have no chance." It's sickening to know that this is how they probably looked at me two years ago.

I sit down in my usual spot. I am squished in with two other people – Christina and Tris. Christina reaches her mocha-coloured hand out and grabs a hamburger from the tray of food, while Tris hesitantly picks one up in between the tips of her fingers. I smirk, finding this kind of cute. Of course she's hesitant. Abnegation food never included hamburgers.

"It's beef," I nudge Tris with my pointy elbow, "Put this on it." I hand her the bowl of tomato sauce lying in front of me. Christina, sitting on the other side of Tris, asks, "You've never had a hamburger before?" Her eyes widen and her mouth is agape. Tris replies, "No, is that what it's called?" I nod curtly at Christina, explaining to her that Abnegation people eat plain food.

"Why?" Christina asks.

"Extravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary."

"No wonder you left."

"Yeah, it was because of the food." I smile at the last comment. So the girl has jokes.

Eric walks in through the doors. I recognize him immediately because I have seen his pierced face and greasy black hair for exactly two years now. I have also seen his face of hatred when he saw that I had come first in initiation, while his name was written just under mine.

"Who's that?" Christina hisses. I look at her, realizing that she is talking to me.

"His name is Eric. He's a Dauntless leader," I tell her. I see the way his eyes sweep across the room. By now I should've gotten used to it, but it still gives me shudders every time. A voice breaks my train of thought.

"Seriously? But he's so young," Christina says. Her curiosity is really getting on my nerves, and it's only been a day, but I repress the thought. Instead, I give her a look and tell her, "Age doesn't matter here." Because it doesn't. If it did, I wouldn't have been asked to be one of the Dauntless leaders. Eric makes his way over to our table. My jaw clenches, and I look away, but my back stiffens.

He says, "Well, aren't you going to introduce me?"

"This is Tris," pointing at the blonde girl seated next to me, "and Christina," My hand points at the Candor transfer.

"Ooh, a Stiff," says Eric. I roll my eyes. Deep inside I hated that word. I just didn't understand why everyone hated us. Well, them. Had they done anything wrong?

"We'll see how long you last," Eric continues. I look up and see a crooked smile on his face, but just for a flash, as it fades away in a fraction of a second. Tris opens her thinly lipped mouth, but closes as if she's afraid to speak in front of Eric. I understand her position – if I were her, looking at Eric for the first time, I'd do the same too.

Eric's disgusting fingernails, dirt under the edges of them, making dark crescents, tap lightly on the wooden table. He stares me straight in the eyes and says, "What have you been doing lately, Four?" I lift a shoulder as if to dismiss him and say, "Nothing, really." A moment of silence follows, well, other than Christina's gobbling of hamburgers.

"Max tells me he keeps on trying to meet with you, and you don't show up," Eric says, a fake sweet smile planted on his face, "He requested that I find out what's going on with you."

I look at him, seeing the slick hair swaying in his face, before saying, "Tell him that I am satisfied with the position I currently hold. Eric's eyes darken and he replies grimly, "So he wants to give you a job." The fact that he looks so … threatened makes me feel more than satisfied.

"So it would seem," I shrug.

"And you aren't interested."

"I haven't been interested for two years."

"Well, let's hope he gets the point, then." He slaps me on the back, which would be a friendly gesture if he didn't do it so hard. I don't flinch, though. He gets up and leaves, his hamburger on his plate practically untouched.

"Are you two … friends?" Tris's low voice asks me. I scoff, wanting to tell her how wrong she is, but instead I say, "We were in the same initiate class. He transferred from Erudite."

"Were you a transfer too?" I look away from her bold eyes, not wanting to touch upon this subject. There have been far too many close calls, and I am not going to let it happen again.

"I thought I would only have trouble with the Candor asking too many questions," I nod to Christina, "Now I've got Stiffs, too?" The word comes out of my mouth without warning, but I feel regret afterward.

"It must be because you're so approachable. You know. Like a bed of nails." I stare at her. I am not offended, but kind of surprised. No wonder she didn't transfer to Amity. She wouldn't survive a day.

I look away, though I can feel her eyes burning onto my skin. I murmur, "Careful, Tris." When I finally look back at her, I see her wriggling around uncomfortably. Then again, everyone looks uncomfortable around me. A voice calls out to me, but I just look down and pretend I didn't hear.

I zone out into my own world – thinking about the initiates, about Tris, Christina, Eric and Marcus. Eventually I get so nervous just thinking about him I leave the dining hall. By the time I get back into my room, the sun has set. I lay on the bed, still wearing my clothes, and stare at the blank ceiling. I think about everything – from hamburgers to Abnegation to Marcus and then finally … Tris. And then I close my eyes, falling into a deep, deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A raspy voice yells out to me. My eyelids feel heavy, but I fling them open when I find myself in a room so chillingly cold, it sends a shiver up my spine. Something mud brown – a belt – lashes out at me, and my first instinct would be to dodge it, but I am paralyzed, unable to move. Instead, I feel a painful stinging on my back. I lose my focus, but I can see a figure walking towards me. It's Marcus. I resemble him, but his eyes look lifeless, and sunken far back into his skull. His belt retracts, and in a flash it's wrapped around my wrists, and he pulls it tight. The searing pain is familiar. I don't understand. How did I get here?

I wake up with a startle. I face the grey wall across the room that is clearly marked with the words 'Fear God Alone.' A slick layer of sweat rests on my forehead. My heart is throbbing against my chest. I shut my eyes and try to forget my dream, but I can still see it so clearly. Beams of sunlight have poured through in between the blinds, illuminating the room. I throw the navy blue covers over my body, trying to adjust to the brightness. I groan inwardly. Yesterday Eric must've taught the initiates about the ranking system which means today is the day I have to teach them fight.

After taking a shower, throwing on new clothes and eating my breakfast, I walk down the familiar grey hallways of the Dauntless compound. At least they're not as hard to remember as the Erudite buildings, a voice at the back of my head nags at me. We're not supposed to visit other factions, but when I was thirteen, I just couldn't help taking a stroll through the maze of cement hallways. I was curious – that's for sure. No wonder why I transferred to Dauntless. No, but it wasn't the reason why you left Abnegation, that same voice tells me. I push the thought out of my head, but I grit my teeth, knowing that the voice is telling the truth.

By the time I reach the training room where Amar, my deceased instructor, nicknamed me Four because of my, well, four fears, my hair has already dried. It is very early in the morning, but eventually, the transfers pile in. One by one, I pass each person a metal gun, which feels comfortable in my own hands, while saying, "The first thing you will learn today is how to shoot a gun. The second thing is how to win a fight." The initiates are only two years younger than me, but at that moment they resemble innocent seven year olds. Most of them look around uncomfortably, but some, like that rude Candor boy who pushed in front of me yesterday in the dining hall, who I now know as Peter, stand with a sort of superiority that I don't particularly like. "Thankfully, if you are here," I continue, "You already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't need to teach you that."

Sweeping my dark blue eyes over each initiate, lingering on Tris, who is uncomfortably weighing the gun in her hand, for just a fraction of a second longer, I say, "Initiation is divided into three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stages are not weighed equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time." I finish my long sentence at an abrupt halt, my lips pursed tightly. "We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice," I hear myself say, "Which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear. Therefore each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primarily physical; the second, primarily emotional; the third, primarily mental."

After explaining the initiation process, Peter asks in between yawns, "But what… what does firing a gun have to do with… bravery?" I consider my options, before flipping the gun without effort in my left hand and in one quick motion press the end of the gun to Peter's forehead. Everyone stops what they're doing and looks at me. Peter sucks in his breath and freezes, mouth slightly agape and stares straight into my eyes. He is silent – he thinks I will kill him, but that is the lesson, is it not?

"Wake. Up," I say coldly, "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it." I put the gun down and see Peter's eyes harden. I stand there, half-expecting him to reply. "And to answer your question… you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself. This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch me." I turn to the wall lined with the targets; hold the gun up with both hands, feet shoulder width apart, and pull the trigger with my index finger. The impact of the bullet makes most of the initiates flinch, but I've gotten so used to it I don't even give it another thought. I see the bullet in the middle circle, and I step aside to let the initiates have a go.

After everyone has lined up, facing a target each, they attempt to shoot. More than half of them will be dead or worse, factionless, by the end of this month. I can't help feeling sorry for them, but then again, they had a choice. Guns fire – most of them nowhere near the target, but a few do succeed. Edward, one of the Erudite transfers, almost hits the bullseye on his second try, but that is the closest anyone has gotten so far. Over the roar of the guns being shot, I hear snippets of conversations.

"- is impossible -"

"- way too loud -"

"- actually defying nature -"

After almost two and a half hours of the initiates shooting, I take them down to the dining hall. I sit in my usual spot again, but this time Tris and Christina sit on the other side along with Al, a broad shouldered boy who transferred from Candor, and Will, an Erudite-born. Lunch is hamburgers with the famous Dauntless chocolate cake. I keep to myself, making minimal conversation with other Dauntless members, but I can't help hearing what some of them say.

"Did you guys hear? The Erudite are planning something, obviously against Abnegation, and they want _us_ to be their soldiers," says one of the voices, "We're not their puppets, for goodness sake!" I look up, eyes wide and mouth open – the Erudite are planning something? It's a rebellion, I think to myself. What else do they want from Abnegation? My dark eyebrows pull my face into a frown, making the nearly invisible, but noticeable if you look closely, scar on my chin that I received from an unexpected punch back in my own initiation go all crooked.

This is not good. So many people could get killed. And how do they expect us to obey every command? Either way, this is very dangerous. I bite my lip until it bleeds, but it's distracting. It temporarily takes my mind off thought of Erudite rebelling, but in doesn't last long. I hope that this is just a nasty rumor, but somewhere, deep inside of me, I know they have every motive to do so.


End file.
